Καταραμένο παιδί

1000 years ago in the land of Larimar, there lived a family that practiced exorcism. The people enslaved by demons were saved by this family, making them loved by everyone that leads people worshiped them. Thus making the gods enraged them by their achievements. One god can’t handle this humiliation that he decided to put a curse in the youngest of the family who rumored to bring fortunes to the family. A god’s curse is irreversible.

And so, the youngest one was born, bearing the hatred of the gods. Shouldering the sins she never committed thus her only mistake is being born.

“What are you doing?” The woman in a fancy, flowy golden dress adorned by gold and gems, with dirty blond hair look at her child, sitting on the puddle of her own blood, in horror. Her beautiful face that age with time was contorted. She gasped and her tears immediately trickled down her tanned cheeks.

“Momma…” The eyes of a seven year old child was cold as ice and dead as forgotten corpse. “It doesn’t hurt…” Her pale lips spoke slowly. Her eyes trailed down on her bleeding wrist that she hardly cut using sharped rocks.

The mother stumbled down on the floor and clasp her mouth to avoid her sobbing loudly, but her attempt was futile. She look at the child, sorrow and pity visible on her eyes. She tried to gulp down her sobs and motioned the child to come to her. “Come here, sweetie.” The child, limping, went to her side. Each step she takes leaves a bloody footprints on the cold, hard, tiled floor. Her shabby and bloody look did not fit on the luxurious room. The mother with a trembling hands reach for the cut wrists. She tried to stop the bleeding wrist with the hem of her dress.

“How…How can you do this to your own? You’re going to die…if you loose too much blood, you know?” She tried hard to nag her but she choke on her words.

The child only tilted her head in confusion. “But momma, I don’t die.” She said with blatant voice, stating the fact. “I won’t die.” The mother unable to contain it anymore cried and hugged her lonely child, mumbling to herself. “Oh gods, why her? Why her? Please…” The room was filled with sorrowful cries, useless pleadings, and the smell of fresh blood.

A long life was laid in front of her, forcing her the immortal path, a sad and lonely fate for a child. Not knowing her sole purpose, the child face each and everyone's death alone pushing her with the power she never even wanted.